“I saw Sam at Jazzy Joe’s this morning. Sounds like it wasn’t a mistake at all, but exactly the kick in the ass you needed.” He reached for the files.
“I had all but decided to leave tonight before I even went into the restaurant. I didn’t need Sam to—”
“I’m only giving you shit. But I do wish I’d have been there to see Sammy giving you hell.” He chuckled and sifted through the files. “Elsie Hood? You said her father agreed to the treatment.”
“He did. I want you to just eyeball her parents when they come in, quietly reassure her father. He had a hard time with the decision, and I want him to know, without a single doubt, that he did the right thing.”
Jon shook his head. “You mollycoddle the hell out of your patients and their families. Let it go. He’s a man. He’ll deal with it.”
Cole crossed his arms and narrowed his eyes.
“Fine. But I still think you’re babying him.”
“It’s called good patient care. I want his daughter to get her treatment, and the more buy-in from her dad, the less guilty she’ll feel for letting him down. And don’t even get me started with that. I know there’s a part of that guy that’s not beyond a misplaced guilt-inducing word or two. Just do it for me.”
“You’re sure about this?”
“Sure I want Leesa in my life? Absolutely. Sure about leaving my patient load to you? No. It’s a shitty thing to do.”
“Don’t worry,” Jon said. “Paybacks are hell.”
“Hopefully it’ll be worth whatever payback you come up with.”
Chapter Twenty-Three
LEESA SAT IN her car, parked at the end of Andy’s street, where she’d spent the last hour willing herself to drive down the block. After seeing Chris, she’d gone home to have another good cry. She’d cried not only for the truth Chris had so graciously bestowed upon her, but for the relief that had swept through her at his understanding, his acceptance of who he was, and for knowing what she’d needed when she hadn’t even known herself. She cried because there was a tiny sliver of light that had come out of this mess. And she cried because she knew that she couldn’t be with Cole unless she could put this all behind her—and that was the part she hoped she was strong enough to do.
As the afternoon sun dipped behind the trees and the evening turned gray, she remained parked at the end of Andy’s street. She simply couldn’t get herself to start the car and drive. She remembered all the times she had driven down this street, excited to see what progress she and Andy could make. She’d spent countless hours with him, helping him not only with his schoolwork, but also in dealing with the emotional aspects of losing his mobility while his friends were out skateboarding, biking, and hanging out. Andy had taken root in her heart, the way any child she’d worked closely with had. She’d wanted him to do well and to get through his physical healing and schoolwork without being held back, but she’d always been careful to keep their relationship professional. She was still trying to figure out where she’d gone wrong. She’d never talked about girls or dating with Andy. She’d never talked about her personal life with him or led him to think they could be anything other than teacher and student. The shock of that terrible morning came rushing back. The surety that there had been some misunderstanding—that Darlene had somehow mistaken what Andy’s father had said. She simply couldn’t fathom the accusation, or any reason Andy would want to hurt her in that way.
She drew in a deep breath, accepting her new reality. It had happened, and she’d survived it.
That’s what she needed to focus on. She didn’t have cancer. She wasn’t in jail for something she didn’t do. She simply had to pull up her big-girl pants and start over.
And she needed to reclaim her reputation.
With that thought fueling her resolve, she cranked the engine and drove down the block toward Andy’s house. Her heart was beating so fast she worried she’d be unable to walk, much less talk, when she got there. His father’s black Buick was in the driveway, parked beside his mother’s efficient Subaru wagon. The urge to keep going was stronger than the urge to breathe, but she forced herself not to chicken out and parked across the street from the modest Colonial.
She could think of a dozen things she could do right now to procrastinate, like calling Lena—who would conveniently talk her out of doing this—or Tegan, who would be so supportive Leesa was sure she’d break down and cry. She could call Cole, who she knew would lead her in whichever direction she asked him to, or she could even call Tempe, who would probably reassure her of her strength and fortitude.
She angled the rearview mirror until she could see her reflection. I’m the only one I need right now. No one else can do this for me, like no one else could have endured the hurt after Dad died. She lifted her chin, wondering what Andy and his family would see when she stood in their doorway. Would they see the woman in jeans and a blouse who had helped Andy through so much, or would they see a villain?
She fisted her keys in her hand and stepped from the car, immediately seeking the hood for stability. She stood there, breathing deeply, feeling like she was about to step into a lion’s den at feeding time, but believing, truly believing, that after the initial shock and discord that was likely to play out took place, they’d talk things through and clear the air.
She heard voices coming from the backyard as she crossed the street. Okay. This would be easier, right? Not being confined inside their house?
She walked on shaky legs around the house, following the voices to the backyard, where she found Andy and his father sitting at a round table on their patio, dinner plates in front of them. Andy pushed food around his plate as his father spoke. One plate was set off to the side, a fork stuck in a piece of meat, resting on edge of the plate. Oh, man, she hadn’t even considered that she might interrupt their family dinner.
She debated retreating before they could see her, but Andy looked up, his eyes landing directly on her. He looked smaller, frailer than he’d been just weeks earlier. He smiled for a second, maybe two, like he was happy to see her, before his father’s gaze shifted to her and the man was on his feet, closing the distance between them. Andy was right behind him, pushing his wheelchair along the patio. Conflicting emotions swept through her. He looked so young, so fragile. How could she expect him to apologize?
Mr. Darren closed in on her, stealing her oxygen with a harsh glare and reminding her exactly why she’d come. Her hand dropped to her side, fidgeting nervously with the seam of her jeans. He stood a few inches from her, his dark eyes angry, his jaw tight.
“H-hello, Mr. Darren,” she managed. “I’m sorry to interrupt.”
“You shouldn’t be here.”
She shifted her eyes to Andy, despite her best efforts to remain focused on the man before her. Andy shifted in his chair behind his father.
“I was hoping to talk to Andy.”
“He has nothing to say to you.” His father moved into her line of sight.
She swallowed the fear threatening to bring her to her knees and forced her shaky voice from her lungs. “I just wanted to…”
“Dad,” Andy said from behind him.
“Andy, you have nothing to say.” His father stood between them, an immovable wall.
“I…I just wanted to see how Andy was doing,” Leesa explained.
“He’s fine, and he’s been through enough—”
Andy tugged on his father’s sleeve, and his father grabbed his hand. Andy struggled to free himself, and his father tightened his grip. In that moment she knew her presence was only making things worse for Andy.
“It’s okay. I’ll go.” She’d been a fool to come here without a witness anyway. Anything could have happened, and then it would be her word against theirs again.
“Andy, settle down.” His father released his hand and remained in front of his wheelchair.
She took one last look at Andy, and her stomach sank at what she saw there—regret, fear, and something else unsettling she couldn’t pinpoint. She hesitated as she turned to leave. Her stomach tightened, her legs were weakening by the second with the reality that not only was she not going to clear her name, but that she’d been selfish enough to want that in the first place when Andy clearly had bigger issues than her to deal with.
She took a step away, the look in Andy’s eyes searing into her mind.
Desperation. That’s what that look was. She was sure she’d looked the same way the day she’d been accused and every day thereafter for a long time. The thought stopped her in her tracks.
She turned to face Andy. His father’s face was red, the veins in his neck bulged, but the look in his eyes was no longer angry. It was pleading. Leesa forced herself to look beyond him to the boy she was sure needed to be set free, and she willed the words to come.
“I forgive you, Andy. Things are going to be okay.”
She wasn’t sure if she added the affirmation for his sake or for hers, but as she left the yard in a trembling mess of barely restrained tears, she hoped it was the truth—for both of them.
Tears blurred her vision as she drove away. Her heart going crazy, and she was breathing so hard she felt like her lungs were burning. But as she wiped the tears away, her vision cleared, and so did her mind. She felt as though a veil had been lifted from before her eyes, giving her clarity. She was never going to get what she thought she needed. Andy wasn’t about to fess up to his lie. She rolled down her window and breathed in the cool night air, filling her lungs completely for what felt like the first time since she’d been accused. At a stoplight she noticed the message light on her cell phone. She picked it up with shaky fingers and scrolled through the texts.